The HookUp
by her l y r i c s
Summary: I am, if nothing else, an optimist, so I set out that night with one goal in mind: getting laid. Having the best darn sex a girl can have with the hottest guy she can find. And conquer.


The Hook-Up 

_Dovesary _

**Disclaimer**_I do not own Naruto. Nor do I own Because the Night. Also, that is not the correct order of the lyrics but it'showI wanted them for the opening. _

**This story is AU and has not been beta'd. Sorry for any and all mistakes. **

* * *

_Desire is hunger is the fire I breathe _

_Love is a banquet on which we feed._

_Because the night is made for lovers_

_Because the night is made for us. _

* * *

"You need to get laid," Ino said to me earlier, as if it were that easy. It wasn't that easy. Ever. I suppose it might be for her, being blonde and busty; not to mention the legs attached to her body that go on for miles. I, while not unsightly, nor basic—that's made very hard with pink hair—am not exactly curvaceous. Sure, the curves are there and most assuredly they're in the right places, but I'm among short variety and that appears to make a difference when I stroll along aside to Ino. Guys have a tendency to look _over _me, not _at_ me. By now, you'd think my self-esteem would have withered away, but luckily I'm not that vain. I mean, looks aren't everything. Brains count too, dammit, and I happen to be extremely intelligent—something I don't have to be modest about. I strive for one thing and one thing only: academic success.

…Yeah, Ino didn't fall for that line, either. But I am, if nothing else, an optimist, so I set out that night with one goal in mind: getting laid. Having the best damn sex a girl can have with the hottest guy she can find. And conquer. Which is how Ino and I ended up at KONOHA that night, allegedly one of the most popular clubs in town and a hot spot for hotties. We hoped. After all, I'd suffered through a Brazilian bikini wax for this night.

Now, I'll admit to having never been to a club before. Give me a break though. I just turned 21, and only recently did I remove myself from under my parents suffocating influence.

I dressed myself, thinking mostly comfortable with a bulky side of sex appeal (I prayed so, anyway). Dark wash straight-legged jeans coordinated well with a flimsy onyx-colored silk-and–silver-sequined halter that had a plunging neckline which stopped soon enough to just be considered decent. The black push-up bra beneath wasn't really needed with so much cleavage exposed, but I decided early on in the dressing process that I was going all out. I also knew my feet were going to suffer because I would be dancing but dammit, I was going to wear heels and I had already painted my toes a glowing hot pink, so I fastened my feet into a pair of—duh—strappy silver stilettos.

My normal, unimaginably straight hair—pink in color, let me remind again—was for once agreeing with me. It decided that a mass of flowing, wavy curls with a silver bejeweled barrette to restrain a small layer of the front section (but not the bangs, of course) was in order for tonight. My bangs, which Ino had recently—finally—talked me into cutting into that side swooping wooshy-thing that everyone has nowadays looked marvelous. And that's saying something because my hair never works with me. We have this hate/hate thing going on that possibly after tonight could turn into love/love.

As I was putting the simple diamond studs onto my ears, a single strand of hair that had been pinned back fluttered to my temple.

Or love/hate. Perhaps I'm moving too fast.

Anyway, I'm no expert when it comes to make-up, for I normally just apply light mascara for volumized lashes and a bit of plumping pink gloss on my lips so they could attain their fullest level of plump. So, yeah, I needed help. Major girly assistance immediately. I fretted over whether or not to call Ino (I had really wanted to surprise her by looking fan-freaking-tastic when she picked me up) when it dawned on me that, hello! I have ten-thousand magazines stashed here and there and all I had to do was find a club-suited make-up instructional ad that I liked and seemed simple.

…And that I had colors akin to.

After a few moments of debating and reading over the short instructions, I attempted the well-known "bed-room eyes". I deduced that the smoky look—and the name—would get the point across to the boys of exactly what I wanted. Not to mention that it went with the outfit perfectly. Sadly, I had to start over twice because I smudged my eyeliner too much so I had the attractive effect of "raccoon eyes" which may have enticed Gaara back to me and that definitely wasn't what I sought. I finally achieved the look I was aiming for and admitted, concededly, that yes, I was _hott_. Yeah. Two T's.

I dusted a light coating of sparkling silver glitter shadow over my eyelids and a pinking bronze shimmer over my cheeks before applying my sleek, rose-colored Everlast lipstick (aptly named Karma Sutra) and called my appearance complete and smokin'. Turning circles in front of the mirror I strutted, swinging my hips as much as they could sway, and pursed my lips, striking what I hoped to be seductive poses. I narrowed my darkly-lined eyes before whispering to myself, "Here, big boy. Come to mama."

"Oh, my god!" Ino gushed, laughing and snorting, imitating her childhood nickname of 'pig' frightfully well. "What the hell are you doing? Trying to seduce Grandpappi Ike?" She burst out into her obnoxious chortles again, her body convulsing with the fits.

"Practicing," I stated defensively. Anger and I were old pals. "And shut up. Grandpappi is a difficult llama and you know saying that is the only way I can get him to come to so I can feed him." I pulled self-consciously at the hem of my thin top, embarrassed she had chosen that moment to walk in without my knowing.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," she said, wiping her tearing eyes carefully, lest she smudge her artfully placed makeup. "I don't even know why you bother working at the petting zoo when you're off from the hospi—omigod you look amazing!" Ino, apparently having finished struggling to mop up her slight amount of tears from the, if I may say, excessive laughter, finally noticed my getup.

Shyly, I asked, "Really? You think so?" My earlier confidence of my appearance seemed to have dissipated with Ino's giggles and her own looks. She, of course always looked fabulous—it's honestly hard for her not too. And yes, she flaunts it, but only to guys. That's one quality I truly appreciate about Ino. Around her insecure-ish friends (namely me) she tries to tame her beauty. Okay, not really tame it so much as not paraded it off as she normally would. She's not the girl who's like: I'm gorgeous and your not, ha ha ha. Ino tends to try to help not hurt and I adore that in her. Although sometimes her help hurts. I have the battle wounds to prove it.

Anyway, I got sidetracked. As I was saying, she's beautiful. And tonight she chose to wear an extremely sexy—maybe slutty was a better word for it—royal blue almost halter. It was really just one piece of curling silk. The sleek cloth coiled around her neck and draped down her shoulders in lustrous inches of material, hardly covering her rather large necessities. It finished a few inches below the waistline, overlapping seeing as how it truly was only one piece of cloth. A white belt with two silver buckles strapped around her middle and held the halter in place since there was nothing to the so-called shirt in the back. Her jeans matched mine but her shoes were—and because I knew her, not to mention her closet—her favorite pair of white Versace platform wedges. Completely adorable though they were, I prayed to whatever Powers May Be that she would survive the night on the hellish dance floor.

"Am I a true blonde?" She asked, staring at me with serious blue eyes.

"Uh…"

"Nevermind! Let's just get to the club so that you can hook up." The last bit of this was spoken with an insinuating rhythm to the words.

I hoped like hell that her non-answer still meant I looked amazing. I thought I did. That counted for something, right?

…Don't answer that.

* * *

It wouldn't be understating to say that the experience that night was… life changing. 

KONOHA's exterior was a bit of a let down. A plain cement building painted ivory, the expected flashing neon sign that scrawled out the name in dark green, and oddly enough, two small, exotic-seeming trees that lined the doorway. Then there was the extremely long line of giddy adults waiting to be let in. Thank goodness Ino seduced the bouncer the night before—a purposeful act on her part, I'm sure—because we didn't have to wait in that horrible line.

Booming music quaked my ribs and shook my teeth. The song currently playing was of the electronic variety and it had a piercing whistle during the chorus that made my eyes water. Strobe lights of various colors flashed brightly, adding on to the rush of senses. I figured that was why my adrenaline was already pumping. With music seducing my ears, lights sparking my interest, the oddly intriguing smells of human musk and lingering perfumes, and the added visual of grinding bodies, it was only natural that my body too wound up from sensation overload.

Interiorly, KONOHA was eye-catching. The concrete walls were hidden behind draping, dark-colored satin. What appeared to be high-backed onyx settees made up the seating portion of the booths, while a circular glass table was placed in the middle. Above each table was a low hanging lamp that gave off dim light and nestled between the backs of every booth, resting against the walls was an exotic, leafy tree. The dance floor was roughly tiled in an expensive, designer sort of way. The large, stone (artificial or authentic, I wonder?) bar covered a big portion of the read-end of the club. The same lamps hung intermittently above the bar as the booths, and what appeared to be vines crept along the edge of it. The over-sized mural behind the bar was that of a white fox with, I thought, a few too many tails.

"Sakura! Hello, earth to Sakura!" Ino shouted as she waved a dainty hand before my face.

I blinked. "What?"

"Space out much?" She laughed. She grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the bar. "Come on. Let's get some drinks and then scope out the perfect lover boy."

Ordering our drinks wasn't as easy as one would think, especially when, like me, you haven't ever ordered an alcoholic beverage. Naturally, I ordered the same as Ino. Seated upon this leather stool, at this upscale club, on this particular night, I didn't want to embarrass myself by admitting to having no freaking clue what drink had what or whatever. So, I played knowledgeable-alcoholic and when my drink arrived, I took a large sip of the contents before cursing myself, my mom, Ino, and every other living thing on the planet because I'll be damned if that shit didn't burn a path straight down my esophagus and a hole through my stomach.

I coughed and sputtered, sure I was on the verge of death. I rasped out, "Oh, my god! What the hell is this?"

Ino guffawed for all she was worth after she told me. Honestly, if I could notice how unattractive she was when laughing like while I was choking up a lung, then it had to be seriously unappealing.

I forced air past my burning throat as I grabbed Ino's hand and headed towards a booth but before I reached an empty one, Ino grasped my upper arm and swung me around.

"Geez, Ino. Careful with the goods—," I began until she grabbed my chin, pointing it in the direction she wanted me to look.

"_Him. _Look at him, Sakura, he's perfect. Sophisticated, sexy, chic. Not to mention that aura that screams 'I'm-a-not-so-secret-sex-freak'. He's the one for you." Ino let go of my chin and it gaped as I looked him over. He really _was_ perfect.

Too perfect.

I definitely couldn't talk to him. He looked like a guy that would fall for Ino, not me. Ino, intuitively advanced as she is, noticed I was about to flee and stepped in front of me, a scowl marring her pretty features.

"No."

"Ino…" I pleaded, wide eyed and all.

"No."

"But…"

"Negative, Sakura. This is a mission. _Your _mission." Her hands were on her hips, her eyes overly serious.

Inwardly I rolled my eyes before sighing, knowing there was no way to get out of this. _Besides_, I told myself, _I wanted this. I came here for this and I won't back down now!_

I nodded at my optimism, glad it was back in full force. Ino seemed to sense my change in attitude and smiled, grabbing my hands in hers and kissing my cheek.

"Good luck! I'll be watching from over here." She said. "If it starts going bad, back off. If he's too freaky, then walk away and hopefully he won't follow you."

I startled. "That happens? They follow you?"

She gave me a duh stare.

"What?" I asked defensively.

"Nevermind. Anyway, he looks normal—just, you know, extremely sexy. Don't let that throw you off. You're hott too, Sakura, whether you believe it or not. See you later, baby. Do him good for me, 'kay? Call me with all the dirty details!" With that she turned and sauntered off to the dance floor.

I took a deep breath and pulled in all the confidence I had as I walked toward the man that was going to be my conquest tonight.

I was _really_ going to need it.

* * *

**End. For now. **

**So, originally I was going to make this a one-shot, but I've decided to break it up into two parts. Mainly because I think it'll be too much—with the detail of her clothing and of the bar—and I'm afraid it'll end up getting boring if I put it all together. So, I'm hoping that it will be more entertaining if I separate the parts. **

**I'm sorry for any and all mistakes. **

**Dove. **

**P.S:**

http:// i34 (dot) photobucket (dot) com/ albums / d105 / lliella / club (dot) jpg

Ino's outfit is the one of the right, only with the colors I said.


End file.
